


lie on the chopping block

by everlit (Ink)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Anal Sex, Dom/sub, F/M, Gags, Gangbang, Multi, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-12
Updated: 2011-03-12
Packaged: 2017-10-16 22:19:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/169946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ink/pseuds/everlit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Her expression never changes, and every moment it pierces him more. She may be blind but she sees him, and he can’t—he can’t deal with that but he can’t look away.</i> Karkat gets well and truly fucked.</p>
            </blockquote>





	lie on the chopping block

**Author's Note:**

> Anon requested Karkat gagged and bottoming. I, ah, suppose this fulfills that. With interest.
> 
> Also, trying to tag this made me cry.

The gag's just this side of uncomfortable—it doesn't hurt, but it's filling him, it's pressing down on his tongue, and the straps bite into the corners of his mouth. Terezi runs one finger across his cheek, under the edge of that strap. “Are you still okay with this?” she asks.

The spark in her eye tells him she already knows, but she wants him to say it. Or not say it, in this case.

“No?” she says, when he doesn't respond, and moves her hands to the back of his head, playing with the fastener. She's smirking at him. God, she's so fucking infuriating—

He doesn't look at her, but he nods once, deeply enough that she'll be able to feel it, and reaches up to pry her hands away.

Her smile is like a sated cat's. “Good.” In the next instant she has one of his arms bound behind him; the other she leaves free— “If you really want to stop,” she says, “you can raise your hand—” and she bears him down onto his back; runs her hands up the inside of his thighs, spreading his legs; licks a stripe down his cock—

His hips buck and he yelps, moaning against the gag—

—and she withdraws. “Oh, yeah,” she says, low and thick and entirely too fucking pleased, “I think they're going to like you. I think _I_ like you. You can come in now,” she calls, crossing over to kneel beside him.

Sollux enters the room. Feferi's on his arm, guiding him in, and she wiggles her fingers at Karkat. "Hey, Crabsnack," she chirps, like they're at a fucking tea party or something.

Ice shoots down his spine and he freezes. _You didn't tell me she was going to be here,_ he tries to say, _you didn't tell me she was going to see—_

Terezi strokes his hair, tucks a stray strand behind his ear. “What's that, Karkat?” Her lips twitch. “You'll have to speak more clearly, I can't understand you.”

 _Oh, fuck you—_ It doesn't do any good, though, he just ends up drooling around the gag. Terezi runs her thumb over his lip to wipe it away. “You're making a mess,” she says.

He shivers.

Feferi guides Sollux's hand between his legs, and Sollux glides his fingertips over Karkat’s cock, briefly, along the insides of his thighs, before moving further back. He does it all with the same air of casual indifference that Karkat has come to expect from him, and his hands—parting Karkat, one finger probing along the crack of his ass to find his entrance—are very cold.

Feferi, meanwhile, seems to have decided that he is her new sketchbook; she's tracing little patterns, little whorls, on his skin with a delicate, too-light touch. Every so often her fingers brush against his cock, which might be accidental but probably isn't—or she's devious enough for it not to be, at least. He can’t help it—he arches up into that touch—but she always pulls away. She knows exactly how much she has to give him to drive him crazy, and she doesn’t plan on going any further.

“Give him what he wants,” Terezi says, voice rich with laughter. "Just a little."

This time Sollux plunges two fingers into him, slick with lube; Feferi hums her assent and runs her thumb along the side of his cock, as easily as she might pet a cat. She follows that up with her tongue—and he whines, high in his throat, throwing his head back.

Her head bobs up. “Wow,” she says brightly, "Terezi was right—you really do make the best noises," and she leans back in to lick the tip of his cock, swirling her tongue against the slit, half a second before Sollux slides the third finger in up to the knuckle.

“You do,” Terezi murmurs in his ear, proprietary, her nails curling around his jaw, and that gets a moan out of him—the curve of her mouth, the way she leans over him. And she laughs. “Yeah, just like that—hey, Sollux, are you going to fuck him or what?”

“All in good fucking time, TZ,” Sollux grumbles, and eases in slowly, which is a kind of torture all its own.

They are a study in easy command, his arrogance and clinical hands, her bright smiles and layers of deviousness beneath. He isn’t prepared for the way they open him up—and he isn’t prepared for Nepeta, who comes after, crawling up his body in one long, sinuous motion, clawing down his sides, leaving scrapes and scratches that she laps at with her tongue afterward—or Jade, who comes after Nepeta, with her too-soft human hands and her smirk that isn’t soft at all— _he’s so much less annoying when he can’t talk,_ she tells Terezi and Terezi _laughs._ She’s followed by her brother—John just stares at Karkat, all wide eyes and wonder, like he wants nothing more than to ask _well, what are you doing here, Karkat?_ Like Karkat is some great puzzle—this angry boy pacified, reduced and laid bare on the floor in front of him—and he turns that puzzle over and over in his hands, searching for the trick of it.

Terezi is the constant; she pets his arms, his shoulders, runs her fingers through his hair. Through it all, she never stops talking, her voice a low rumble in his ear—you look so good like this, she whispers, you look amazing, spread out and open and flushed, all the blood rising to the surface, she can smell it on you. You can’t hide it, can you, how much you want this: to cede control—moan for me, yes, exactly like that—to be touched and turned over and taken until there is nothing left, acting is too much, thinking is too much, you are there to be used.

Heat, shame, courses through him at that, but she shakes her head, sidles up closer. You’re so afraid of what you want, she says. You don’t have to be afraid. Don’t be afraid.

By the time John finishes, he’s exhausted, flagging, but when Terezi brushes her thumb along the tip of his cock his whole body jerks. He hasn’t come yet today—every time she brings him back from the brink, just as he’s about to.

Terezi smiles at him, like she knows exactly what he’s thinking. “Not yet,” she says.

He bites back a groan.

“Come in,” she calls, turning her head, and Equius steps into the room.

John had hung in the doorway for a long time, eyes bugging out of his head, gaping, ogling. Equius, on the other hand, doesn’t ogle. Equius _rakes,_ and his breath rattles, heavy, as he kneels down between Karkat’s legs. For once, he doesn’t say a word, thank god, only slides his hands so careful under Karkat’s hips—lifts him up, too easily, and Karkat sucks in a breath that becomes a whistle around the sides of the gag.

Equius is big, much bigger than either Sollux or John, and even though he’s been thoroughly stretched it still hurts when Equius pushes into him, just enough that it only makes him harder. He wants more, he can take more, he wants so much—

“—didn’t bring you here to be careful,” Terezi says, from half a world away, and when Equius growls in response he can feel it all along him.

The next thrust is hard and fast—not a trace of hesitation, just pure driving force—and that, yes, that’s what he needs, that’s exactly what he’s been missing. _Please,_ he says, or thinks he says, but it doesn’t matter anyway, the gag warps it all to incoherent noise. Equius grips his hips harder, bruising the skin there, which should not—fuck—should probably not turn him on this much, but that’s a lost cause by now. He’s gone.

Terezi’s touching his face, tracing around his open mouth—his mouth is dry, he cries out as Equius pounds into him, throws his head back, but she keeps on tracing, her expression never changes, and every moment it pierces him more. She may be blind but she _sees him,_ and he can’t—he can’t deal with that but he can’t look away— “More,” she says, “and tuck your knees to your chest, Karkat,” and he does, and Equius withdraws and he’s left panting on the floor, with her hands and the cold tile—

—he gasps, arching up, one two three—

—and Equius slides in again, two fingers as well as his cock this time. He fucks Karkat with both—slower this time, and the rhythms don’t match up, but it burns, all the way down, it’s right on the edge of too much, he doesn’t think he could take any more than this. Then Equius shoves his fingers in all the way and—god, he’s not sure he can take this.

“More,” Terezi says, her lips curved up into that smile that’s so very her, and he goes hot and then very cold. _I can’t,_ he tries to say, _Terezi, I can’t—_ but it’s all one long muffled whine and her grin widens and he knows that look, he knows this, this is the part where she makes him beg but he _can’t_ and what do you do when you can’t beg? When she strips you down and takes all of you, takes every last thing except for one and then takes that away too—

The third finger splits him apart.

He clenches around it, but if anything that makes it worse. “Relax,” Terezi says, but he’s wound so tight, his nails are digging into his palms, and when he sucks in a breath it feels like his lungs are on fire.

“Karkat, relax.” She wraps her hand around the base of his cock, strokes him up and down, and that takes the edge off it a little. “Breathe,” she says, and he does; it’s easier this time, though he still feels like he’s being pulled in two. He unclenches by degrees. Equius hasn’t moved the whole time, still isn’t saying anything—Karkat can hear him panting, though, heavily, like it’s taking all his effort to hold back.

Then he _doesn’t_ —it’s just his cock moving in and out now, impossibly slow, but the pressure, the weight of his fingers is still there. Every part of Karkat is white-hot, his bones have turned to jelly, he can’t move—can only lay there and whimper as Equius drags inside him, filling all of him. It hurts, it still hurts—it feels impossibly good—pain becomes pleasure and pleasure becomes pain, circling around and back again. His cock is aching. When Terezi’s fingers brush against it, the lightest possible touch, the contact is unbearable; he is going to die, he is sure of it—and then she does it again, works him harder this time, ever harder, always, and his whimper is high and breaking all around him—

He comes, spilling all over himself, shaking.

Terezi says something he can’t make out, and the next thing he registers is Equius withdrawing, leaving him empty, hollowed out, wanting. He can’t remember who he is, barely knows where he is. There’s a hole in him that can’t be filled easily—but Terezi presses herself flush against him, then, burying her face in the crook of his neck, and her hands alight on either side of his head. She strokes down his cheeks with her thumbs, smooths him out with every motion: “You were good,” she says, “you were so good, Karkat,” and he lets himself take her in, her scent, her words, her heartbeat against his. He absorbs all of it.

Someone grunts, the sound coming from somewhere very far away from him, and he hears something hit the inside of a bucket. Terezi lifts her head a fraction of an inch and says, “If you ever want to come back—”

“You are utterly depraved,” Equius starts, and then stops. There’s a long silence. “And you know where to find me,” he says.

She huffs—Karkat can feel her breath against his throat. “Geez, is he ever going to lighten up?” Then she falls silent again—and he, of course, can’t say anything—and they both stay like that for minutes, hours, years. He wouldn’t know, he is floating away, in the depths of space somewhere orbiting a blazing star.

But he’s here, still, at the same time, because she is above him, and the whole way through she never stops touching him. “Can you sit up?” she asks, after an eternity. And this is his greatest secret, his greatest shame, larger and more terrifying than anything he has done or wanted here today: he doesn’t want to. He would like nothing more than to stay here, forever, mind gloriously blank, with nothing but her hands and her warmth and the assurance of her body against his, holding him down. But he nods, reluctantly, and she slides off him, pulling him up with her. Her hands reach behind his head to take apart the fastenings of the gag.

Even after she removes it, though, he doesn’t speak, not for a very long time. And for once she doesn’t make him.


End file.
